Having finished a gruelling first year at the prestigious University of Northampton and leaving my house with only a broken window, front door, two broken beds, one arrest, one night in hospital, dozens of hangovers, and one extreme straw, I found my self back at my parents house in the country being asked where I was going, what I was doing, when I would be back and if I was having tea.
The first week of my 5 month summer break was spent in miserable rain, comfort eating and internet shopping my way through my student loan. Four days of drinking tea with my dad compared to the constant piss take of uni was about to kill me, until I was saved by a trip to the pub.
I was delighted to remember that I had had friends before uni and they were gradually making their way home for summer too, and like me were heading straight to the Bear and Ragged.
Then the impossible happened. After severe depression due to months of shite weather (the state of which pushed me to rant for entire car journeys in an Australian accent)-the sun! One Monday we woke up to the sun burning off the cloud and gloom like a massively clichéd film, I took the roof down on my car and donned my £4.99 H&M aviator shades. Perfection
However besides the sun making me feel a bit better I was still at a loss of how to fill my time. I did a spot of gardening and sunbathing and reading and CV handing out, but largely sat around listening to my brain cells individually rot.
Then, as all bored students do I decided to get my nose pierced. 'THIS IS A BRILLIANT IDEA!' A friend, Emma and I decided to make a day of it and got the train to Birmingham. Although other stores are available we decided to go to Blue Banana where Emma told me to act calm and not say much. After struggling with the consent form due to dyslexia, saying "woops" out-loud several times, asking Emma if we could hold hands and clapping occasionally with excitement I think the pale and pierced girls behind the counter had decided I wasn't exactly a regular badman.
The ordeal was over pretty quickly and we thought we best have a sit down and a peppermint tea; not being as "horizontal" - as our mums would say - as the shop girls.
Now, trust me to meddle. I love a good bit of self surgery, and only last week popped a spot on the inside of my nose with a sewing needle. So the casual cleaning and maintenance was a gift to me. That is until I accidentally pulled out the stud, panicked, shoved it back in and nearly fainted at 1am. After a sit-down with my head between my legs I decided the best thing to do would be to wake my parents and tell them about the situation so that my mum would tell me it would be okay.
I'm fairly sure the shop girls never have to tell their parents their nose studs actually rather hurt, and have a bit of a cry.
Classic Jess...
Thursday 31 May 2012
Thursday 10 May 2012
And Then I Took An Arrow To The Knee...
This weekend I decided boyfriend Jake and I would have some cultural fun visiting Kenilworth castle. It was the Sunday before the May bank holiday and the castle was packed with grandparents and under 11s. It happened to not be raining and sunny infact so we complained about being too hot.
Jake followed me round like a sulking child and kicked at the stones while I read out the fascinating facts on the information board. We got an ice-cream and curiously watched a woman give cider to a horse.
There is a little staircase up to the highest remaining point. I lead the way and waited for herds of Jack Wills clad nine-year-olds to finish climbing down. Jake doesn't like things which are exciting, or dangerous, or high, and made a pathetic excuse that there were too many people and there wasn't anything up there anyway so we went and walked round a medieval village. Jake wanted to hold the swords but then got embarrassed, as he isn't seven, and so we just had fun watching people more of the target age having fun.
A medieval village is the perfect opportunity to make "and then I took an arrow to the knee" jokes. A small boy of about 6 climbed up a hill and shouted to his mum, "Mum, look I'm an adventurer!" and Jake turned to me and mumbled, "I used to be an adventurer, and then I took an arrow to the knee. . ." A female stranger nearby then found this whole episode hilarious and let out a rather unusual laugh.
We went to watch a mock battle but we couldn't hear the man on the Tannoy so had to have a complete shift of perspective half way through when we found out the team we thought were the baddies were the goodies. A child next to us had to leave because of the loud guns and cannons and the general barbaric carnage of the skirmish. Rubber tipped arrows were taking to everyone's knees and the was some vigorous poking of spears, in a manner similar to how you poke someone's hand with your fork when they're stealing your chips! Suddenly, after a precise five minutes, all the baddies fell to the floor, apart from on man who must have had a bad back because he just knelt down and kept still. A triumphant victory.
Lastly we went back to the highest point and, inspired by all the testosterone of the battle, Jake had no problem with climbing to the top. We tried to spot houses of people we knew, a classic game from any high vantage point, and then decided it was probably time to go home as we were getting hungry.
The next day in the pub I became aware of two upsetting nuggets of information; firstly, Jake could have got free entry to the castle for being a Kenilworth resident, and, secondly, that I am infact a member of English Heritage and could also have got free entry. I had paid the full £22.
Jake followed me round like a sulking child and kicked at the stones while I read out the fascinating facts on the information board. We got an ice-cream and curiously watched a woman give cider to a horse.
There is a little staircase up to the highest remaining point. I lead the way and waited for herds of Jack Wills clad nine-year-olds to finish climbing down. Jake doesn't like things which are exciting, or dangerous, or high, and made a pathetic excuse that there were too many people and there wasn't anything up there anyway so we went and walked round a medieval village. Jake wanted to hold the swords but then got embarrassed, as he isn't seven, and so we just had fun watching people more of the target age having fun.
A medieval village is the perfect opportunity to make "and then I took an arrow to the knee" jokes. A small boy of about 6 climbed up a hill and shouted to his mum, "Mum, look I'm an adventurer!" and Jake turned to me and mumbled, "I used to be an adventurer, and then I took an arrow to the knee. . ." A female stranger nearby then found this whole episode hilarious and let out a rather unusual laugh.
We went to watch a mock battle but we couldn't hear the man on the Tannoy so had to have a complete shift of perspective half way through when we found out the team we thought were the baddies were the goodies. A child next to us had to leave because of the loud guns and cannons and the general barbaric carnage of the skirmish. Rubber tipped arrows were taking to everyone's knees and the was some vigorous poking of spears, in a manner similar to how you poke someone's hand with your fork when they're stealing your chips! Suddenly, after a precise five minutes, all the baddies fell to the floor, apart from on man who must have had a bad back because he just knelt down and kept still. A triumphant victory.
Lastly we went back to the highest point and, inspired by all the testosterone of the battle, Jake had no problem with climbing to the top. We tried to spot houses of people we knew, a classic game from any high vantage point, and then decided it was probably time to go home as we were getting hungry.
The next day in the pub I became aware of two upsetting nuggets of information; firstly, Jake could have got free entry to the castle for being a Kenilworth resident, and, secondly, that I am infact a member of English Heritage and could also have got free entry. I had paid the full £22.
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